A Ballooning Sense Of Desperation

| TX, USA | Romantic | February 26, 2017

(It’s the start of February, so we’ve begun putting up Valentine balloons around the store. One of my coworkers, in her mid-20s, is placing balloon sets through the aisles when she comes back with a weird look on her face. She comes behind the balloon counter where we are.)

Coworker #1: “There’s some guy stalking me around the store.”

Coworker #2: “What? Who? I didn’t see anyone.”

(Sure enough, around five minutes later, a man in his 60s who looks like he may have some mental complications comes around the balloon counter, trying to look sneaky. He looks at me, then Coworker #2, but can’t seem to find the worker he’s been following, since she’s snuck into the office nearby.)

Me: “Can I help you, sir?”

Man: “Yeah, uh, I was… How much are your balloons?”

Me: “The mylar hearts are 99 cents apiece. Would you like some?”

Man: “Oh. No… well, yeah. Um. Was there a girl earlier? Long blonde hair?”

Coworker #1: “Do you mean Sandy?” *name of another coworker that isn’t there that day* “She had to go run an errand.”

Man: *suddenly grins like he’s just heard the most beautiful thing ever* “Yeah, is that her? Does she work here? Can I get her phone number from you guys?”

Me: “Sorry, no. We don’t give personal information out.”

Man: “Oh… I get that. Can I have her schedule, then?”

Me: “No, we don’t give those out to non-employees.”

Man: “Oh. Sandy is her name? Okay.”

(He walks out to his car and sits there. We watch him for a few minutes before getting back to work. Coworker #1 finally comes back out, getting back to work. Thirty minutes later, he comes back in, and makes a beeline for the balloon counter while we are all helping customers.)

Man: “Sandy! Hey, Sandy!”

Coworker #1: “That isn’t my name. I’m a little busy right now, sir.”

Man: “Sandy, I made something for you!”

Coworker #1: “Thank you, sir. If you’ll leave it there, I can look at it later, but right now I’m busy.”

Man: “Will you go out with me, Sandy?”

Coworker #1: “Sir, I’m busy.”

(He stood there for five minutes, then walked back out to the car and drove off. Apparently he had stolen one of our Valentine cards, had used ketchup to draw inside of the card, and had used a pencil to write his phone number with ‘I love you’ written on the back. A week later, on Valentine’s Day, he came back up to the shop to give her a note. I was off that day, but I was told the letter was about how he was in love with her and wanted to marry her. He wanted to know if she wanted to go on a date sometime and to call him. He wrote for her to call him a few times in the letter, and had written ‘I love you’ around the corners of the paper, as well. He came back an hour after delivering the letter, dressed in a tux, to ask her again for a date and to tell her he was in his car, waiting. They said he waited three hours out there, then drove off. After that, we never saw him again.)

An Eye-Popping Transaction

| TX, USA | Right | February 21, 2017

(It’s my last day at my store, so I’m more relaxed and friendlier with customers than usual, making off the wall jokes that most have appreciated. I’ve mostly been filling balloon orders while my coworkers work the registers and man the aisles. It’s fifteen minutes to closing when a grumpy older woman comes in and slaps a pack of balloons down.)

Customer: “I need these filled up now. How much are they?”

Me: “We usually charge the normal rate for balloons bought outside our store. However I can blow them up for a dollar instead.” *this is thirty cents cheaper per balloon*

Customer: “That’s too much. I’m not paying that.”

Me: “I’m afraid we can’t blow your balloons up, then. We do have a tank over there for twenty five dollars that you can use, though.”

Customer: “WHAT? I need these done right now! I don’t have time to go anywhere else. I need them done! I have a party I’m supposed to be at. Fine, I’ll pay; just hurry up!”

(I’m one of the faster people on the helium tanks, but she’s yelling at me the whole time I’m blowing up all fifteen balloons. As soon as I’m done, she pulls out another pack that has glow-in-the-dark lights inside.)

Me: “Oh, sorry, we can’t blow those up. They have metal pieces inside, and if one of the balloons were to pop, it could hurt someone.”

Customer: “That makes no sense at all! You blew all of those up without popping them. You’re just being lazy! Blow those up or I’m reporting you.”

Me: “One of those can pop and hit me in the eye. I’m not losing my eyesight because you want them blown up.”

Customer: “Listen to me. My grandson wants these balloons blown up. You are going to blow them up, or I swear, I’m going to make your life miserable.” *shoves the balloons at me again* “Now get to blowing them up! I am not going to wait around while you make any more stupid excuses.”

Me: “So, it’s okay for me to lose my eye because your grandson really wants these blown up, huh?”

Customer: *stuttering* “That’s not what I said at all! You’re putting words in my mouth now. I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of blowing up ten balloons, all because some metal might shoot out at you or not.”

Me: “That’s a big chance of might. Are you going to pay for my doctor bills?”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “My doctor bills. I can’t afford to pay for surgery to repair or remove my eye. Are you going to pay for it?”

Customer: “No… what are you talking about?”

Me: “Are you going to pay for my recuperation while I’m out of a job? I won’t be able to drive if I lose my eye, which means I won’t be able to come to work. Are you going to pay my bills?”

Customer: *stares at me like I’m insane* “I’ll just take these fifteen, then.”

Me: “Yeah, it’s all fun and games until you get reminded that we’re human beings, too, huh? Have a nice day.”

(My manager called the next day to tell me I was over the top, but she was laughing as she said it. When the woman called to complain the next day, she demanded to have me fired, and my manager told her I couldn’t be fired; I didn’t work there. Apparently, it confused the woman, and she hung up.)

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No One Here Is A Patriot

| Gresham, OR, USA | Working | January 31, 2017

(My mom relayed this story to me about what happened when she went looking for party supplies. She is a huge Broncos fan and is throwing a party for Super Bowl 50. She decides to call into a party store to see if they have any decorations. Keep in mind that the Broncos and the Panthers are playing this year and the Patriots played last year.)

Mom: “Hi, I was wondering if you guys had any Super Bowl party supplies.”

Worker #1: “I’m not sure let me check.”

(A couple minutes later.)

Worker #2: “Hello? Is there something I can help you with?”

Mom: “Yeah, someone was checking for me. I was wondering if you guys had Super Bowl party supplies. The other gal said she wasn’t sure.”

Worker #2: “I’m not sure if we do. Let me check.”

(A few more minutes later:)

Worker #3: “Hello, can I help you with something?”

Mom: “Yes, do you guys have any Super Bowl party supplies.”

Worker #3: “Yes, right at the front of the store.”

Mom: “Thank you. Finally. I’m actually looking for Broncos in particular. Do you guys have Broncos stuff?”

Worker #3: “No, and I doubt we’ll get any in, but we do have Patriots stuff.”

Mom: *click*

They’re Slippery Costumes To Get

| Aurora, CO, USA | Right | September 23, 2015

(Earlier in the day on Halloween:)

Caller: “Do you have any banana suits?”

Coworker: “Yes, ma’am, we have one left.”

Caller: “Can you hold it for me?”

Coworker: “No, not unless you buy it over the phone.”

Caller: “No, it’s fine. I’ll be there soon.”

(Later, I had just sold the last banana suit.)

Customer: “I called a bit ago about a banana suit.”

Me: “I’m very sorry we just sold our last one.”

Customer: “You guys said you had a banana suit. You should have held it for me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, we’re not allowed to hold costumes unless you buy them over the phone. Is there a different costume I can get you?”

Customer: “I didn’t think I’d need to! I’m not leaving here ’til I get a banana suit!”

Me: “Then you’re not leaving until next Halloween.”

(At this point I just walk away, and my manager gave me a fist bump.)

More Stupid Than Homer Simpson

| Seattle, WA, USA | Right | June 25, 2015

(It is the Halloween season and I’m working in the cosmetics aisle, advising customers on what kinds to use, letting them test products, etc…)

Customer: “So,I want to be Homer Simpson.”

Me: “Oh, okay.” *proceeds to show him our various kinds of yellow makeup* “Would you like to test some?”

Customer: “Sure!”

(He holds out his hand for me to dab some makeup on, but halfway through, says:)

Customer: “I might be allergic to this. I’m not sure.”

Me: “Oh! Well, here, let me get you a makeup wipe and we’ll get it off of you.”

Customer: “Oh, no, it’s fine. I’ll just walk around the store a bit and if it’s not too bad I’ll buy some.”

Customer’s Wife: *opens the new container of makeup* “Here, honey, put a little on your face and we’ll try that.”

(I momentarily wonder if she’s actively trying to kill her husband, but manage to get out:)

Me: “Ma’am, please don’t use the makeup before you buy it.”

Wife: “But why not?”

Me: “Because then I can’t sell it if you don’t choose to buy it.”

Wife: “Oh.”

Customer: “We’ll be back!”

(They then walk off, leaving me standing there with a makeup wipe and the vague fear that he’s going to go into shock and die in the store, but instead they show up five minutes later.)

Customer: “So it’s making my skin all red and itchy, but I think it’s okay. I’ll tough it out!”

Me: “…These items are not returnable or exchangeable.”

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